A Statice and Haiku
by Halcon Primero
Summary: Shiouin Yoruichi lived an ordinary life, until she was placed into extraordinary circumstances which placed her closest friends in the same danger as accessories to murder. A serial killer who has taken a ninth victim and is working to cover their tracks is willing to take a tenth. Only if she requests the aid of another killer would she be able to prove her innocence.AU sum insid
1. prologue

A Statice and Haiku

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters as they belong to Tite Kubo. I don't make any profit from my work nor do I want it, it is only of my free will and time that I write.

Full Summary: "It is far more difficult to murder a phantom than your reality, you realize" she paused with a cold expression crossing her features, "to them my existence is as such…never present, yet I pose a serious threat. I understand nothing of their idiot ideology, but it is just the same. You are framed for murder Ms. Shiouin, and you expect me, an assassin, and a killer myself to aid you?" Shiouin Yoruichi lived an ordinary life, until she was placed into extraordinary circumstances which placed her closest friends in the same danger as accessories to murder. A serial killer who has taken a ninth victim and is working to cover their tracks is willing to make it a tenth. Only if she requests the aid of another killer would she be able to prove her innocence.

Author's Note: Well, it's been a while. I was formerly Million Dollar Age and well, my computer was compromised and nasty crap happened. And my stories needed revision, so here I am! This is like an amalgamation of Lights out, and other stories I was working on like Sette Note In Nero and other ideas like the Marauders and Trafficker's Amble. This, like the ones mentioned before is an A/U. Either way hopefully you like it! :]

Prologue:

_A trap. Deadly traps mice find themselves running from, even though they manage to be preyed upon by a dastardly and smug cat. The preying cat allures its quarry to him through different uses of charm and deviation. The cat smugly corners the small, petrified mouse into a corner and just before the mouse's life comes to pass, the cat lets him go. Why? Why would the cat leave his quarry to run again, only to chase him down once more? The charming cat enjoys playing with his food it seems. Though, the cat enjoys proving to the small mouse that he can catch him more than one time, so he lets him go, and lets him go, and lets him go another time. It doesn't matter how many times the mouse tries to reevaluate its strategy, the big, smug cat corners each time. But this cat doesn't just prey upon one mouse, no; the mouse has its younglings and its mate. Once the big cat decided to finally leave the mouse in peace by finally ending him, he wrecks the mate and the younglings. _

_You see, in a shady life and in a community such as Karakura, these mice are preyed upon once every summer for the past nine years. Cats wreck the home life of the people of the community, as each and every year for the entire summer season, someone's princess is removed from the family. Be it the youngest daughter or eldest, one smug criminal decides to leave a family in misery. There is no one who remains unaffected. Each family fears for the safety of their daughters, because one is picked off just as the other did just last summer. The local police have decided to call this one methodical killer: The painted poet. _

_This 'Painted Poet' is deemed the worst cat, only in competition with another, 'the Crimson Phantom'. With these two killers playing cat and mouse with each other, they deem it necessary to pick off the mice just living their everyday lives, albeit in fear and foreboding._

A pen scratched these words into a small journal until jabbing the period and the hand holding the pen threw it and the pad down in distaste. Tanned hands buried a face into their fold, and a tired mess of a long, purple mane tangled itself around thin hands. Leaning nude elbows on black sweatpants clad knees, a woman with tired golden eyes glared at her work in progress. She threw her hands down and stood up and began to pace with arms folded across her friend's oversized Atreyu band t-shirt and her bosom.

"Come on Yoruichi, think!" She glowered to herself, "You can think of something better to call them than 'cats', surely there's a better metaphor." She pressed herself against the cool brick wall of her apartment whilst heaving a sigh. "Too bad I can't call them dirty, rat bastards, but no! 'Hey Yoruichi, that's too extreme! We pride ourselves in reading material that everyone to read!' No. I call that bull, my dear editor. If we prided ourselves in that, you wouldn't have me covering a serial killer." She rolled her eyes at her own monologue. "If only I could afford to write my two weeks' notice. Then I could tell him to edit it into a place where the sun doesn't shine."

Yoruichi slid her exhausted body off of the wall and stumbled into her kitchen. She flipped on a coffee maker and threw more beans than the filter could hold. She liked her coffee strong. While she waited for the coffee to brew she turned on the television set that was shoved into the corner of the island counter that was adjacent to her coffee table. She leaned on the counter and watched the news, while the competition of her building, producers of Bakudo Daily, in the Bakudo Bugle, report on the same story she was currently working on.

"_We fear that come the 21__st__ of June, this 'Painted Poet' will claim yet another victim, as this serial killer has done for the past nine summers, I'm Nanao Ise and you are watching Kido news."_

The screen flashed back into the anchor room where a flamboyant looking man with a women's pink blouse and a piece of straw hanging out of his bearded mouth sat with a small smirk settled on his lips.

"_Thank you Nanao-Chan! Now let's take a look at today's weath-"_ The man stopped short_ "-er, rather let's go to a commercial break!"_

The camera panned to see that the usual weatherman was nowhere near the screen where he was to do the weekly weather at 8:12 in the morning. _Slacker_.

Clicking the television set off, Yoruichi stretched and ambled over to her coffee pot and dumped the contents of the Pyrex pot into a large mug. Swallowing the contents in a few guzzles, she placed the mug down and walked back to her working table which was properly equipped with her computer a case of pens and pencils and a series of her favorite notepads. After sighing, she concentrated for a moment. _My deadline is the 21__st__, only 15 hours and 48 minutes until then…so I have to get this article done pronto. Let me see, what can I do better?_

A young man exited his black 2005 Ford Stratus while heaving a heavy sigh. His white hair stuck out among the lower ranking officers, and his turquoise eyes didn't help much either, as he was the child prodigy, Toshiro Hitsugaya who was promoted to Captain of Homicide only at the age of 18. He exited his car without his rain jacket that was a clear identification of whom he worked for, but the black tapered shirt with white embroidery of 'ten' and the word 'homicide' underneath was another tell tale of his rank among the lower officers. His shirt was tucked into white dress pants and black penny loafers donned his feet. He wore his sidearm on the black belt that was fastened around his pant loops along with his badge appointed to him by the Gotei police department.

The young prodigy rounded the corner for his eyes to be met with obnoxious red and blue flashing lights that were precariously parked on the water doused sidewalk and pavement. Two lesser officers stood vigilant by the yellow tape that marked the start of the investigative ground. They, thankfully halted anyone with unauthorized access from gaining entry, and kept the media a good fifty paces away from tampering with anything accidentally.

The young man was intercepted by the two intimidating fellows to whom he flashed his badge to and didn't get a response. They just stood erect and saluted to their superior officer. "Carry on." Toshiro stated whilst sounding with a touch of exasperation.

After ducking under the tape, he made his way over to the table which held other supplies such as coffee, and flashlights. Taking the light off of the table, he removed a small recording device from his pocket and spoke into it after checking his watch fastened around his left wrist.

"4:15 am, Eastern Standard Time, June 22, 2010. Location: North District 'Rukongai' 25. Investigating reported murder." He pressed the pause button on the device and walked over to where the bulk of police were gathered. Upon his arrival, they dispersed and gave their Captain room to operate. He brought the playing device up to his mouth again after donning a latex glove handed to him by the coroner that hovered over him to his left.

"Age: Between 15 and 25, Brunette, height 5'4", light colored eyes, blue or grey in color." He listed. Hitsugaya quirked a snowy brow and reached for the left hand of the girl which was concealed in brush. "A Statice in her left hand…" His brow furrowed and a look of realization crossed his eyes"…And a Haiku on her chest."

A/N: Well, tell me what you think, Yay or Nay :]

I know it's been a while, so hopefully my writing hasn't gone to the dumps. Thanks for reading!


	2. All She Wrote

A Statice and Haiku

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters as they belong to Tite Kubo. I don't make any profit from my work nor do I want it, it is only of my free will and time that I write.

Summary: Shiouin Yoruichi lived an ordinary life, until she was placed into extraordinary circumstances which placed her closest friends in the same danger as accessories to murder. A serial killer who has taken a ninth victim and is working to cover their tracks is willing to make it a tenth. Only if she requests the aid of another killer would she be able to prove her innocence.

Author's Note: Thanks for the support and the reviews from Guest and L, much obliged:]!  
Thanks to those who read the prologue, I promise chapters won't be that short! It also seems that I have slacked with the breaker thing, so sorry if the switch was awkward…

Anyway…please, Enjoy!

Chapter 2: All She Wrote

_A Statice in the victim's left hand, and a haiku placed on the girl's chest? I understand this is the work of the Painted Poet, but I don't see the relevancy. _Toshiro thought to himself as he flashed the torch to view the wrinkled sheet of paper and opened his mouth to the recorder to speak again. "Note: the haiku reads: Flash of steel stills me/ Calmness mirrors the ocean/ I await the waves. Analyze in further detail later."

He examined the young girl's body with one gloved hand and squinted his aquamarine eyes. "No sign of blunt force trauma," Hitsugaya paused a moment and turned to the coroner. "Did you find any signs of foul play?"

"I haven't gotten the poor lass into my building, captain. But I will sent you a full detailed report by the time my work is done." The coroner squatted to the left of the captain and placed a gloved hand over the woman's left. "A pretty flower for the little lass, too bad it had to be in this circumstance."

Hitsugaya thought for a moment. "Isn't a Statice usually used under the circumstance of a funeral?" He too eyed the multiple purple budded flowers with deep green stems and leaves. "It's as though the killer provides the mourning flower…" _Though this weather we're having does seem to fit the mood of the occasion._ Sighing, the young man stood to have his shoes squish in the growing mud. "The victim is all yours coroner. I'm going to take a look around this vicinity."

Hitsugaya waited for the discreet nod of the coroner's head before turning on his heel and walking away from the body. The young man took in his surroundings. _Flash of steel stills me/ Calmness mirrors the ocean/ I await the waves. Waves? There aren't any here. This is more puzzling than ever. _Thirty meters around him, there was nothing but dirt. There was a highway located to the northeast side of his position, and the back lot where his car was to the south. An over head bridge, where some druggies usually hung out, was located to the west and a compost patch was at the eastern section. _There isn't any body of water within the next forty miles from here. _He brought the recording device up to his mouth before he spoke. "Poem has no relevancy to current location. It is possible that the body was moved from one location to this one." Seemingly, without a thought, he walked to the west and pointed his flashlight towards the ground and focused on the muddy ground. "Hm. Perhaps the mud…" He squatted down and placed his hand that held his recording device onto the ground that held an odd indentation. "Partial footprints, I'm going to have to rule out any GPD distributed shoes." He paced out the five other footprints with the recorder and paused in thought. Shaking his head, she placed the recorder up to his mouth. "One size seven women's shoe, two size eight men's shoe, one size thirteen men's Steve Madden heel, and one size six women's shoe. I'll put into archives, but it can be circumstantial evidence." _I don't understand what this is supposed to be. Perhaps if the murder happened elsewhere, there has to be tire tracks either from the highway or the back alley because I don't see a person dragging a woman forty miles from water._

Yoruichi sat with her head propped against an open palm with a deep frown crossing her features. She sat at a high topped table in a hole in the wall pub called the Mountain Valley with a cuba libre to her right and a small appetizer of crispy wings with ranch dressing in front of her. _Failed to meet the deadline…automatic walk in the door and pack your crap and get out. Perfect._ Sighing, the tanned woman took a sip of her drink and placed it down heavily on the mahogany finished table.

Scratching of a high top chair on the floor brought the drinking woman's attention across from her. Her line of sight was blocked by the sight of a messy, long, black mop of hair that was tied in a white bandana. A thinly waxed eyebrow was quirked over emerald irises. The owner of the face hefted herself onto the chair and threw her notepad that had a few orders scrawled on the paper. The woman folded her pale hands in front of her torso which was covered by a red collared shirt which hung outside of black dress pants. "Why the long face, Shiouin?"

"No reason, why do you ask Kukaku?" the woman responded as she averted her gaze out into the parking lot.

Kukaku scoffed in disbelief. "You'd think that I didn't know you since the sandbox. I can tell when something's off about you." She paused a moment, "Is it your sex life?"

Yoruichi blanched, "Why is everything wrong with me my sex life to you? What if I told you my cat died?"

"I'd call BS, because Kisuke has the cats, and you have a no domestic animal apartment." Kukaku took a sip of Yoruichi's drink, "So what is it?"

"The dictator fired me."

"Why? You were the best writer on his team of half wits and dimwitted bimbos. What were you covering?"

"I missed my first deadline yesterday and was fired on the spot." She lowered her voice conspiratorially, "This whole painted poet deal has me spooked. I personally trashed my project because I'm not going to take the tragic stories of so many people who were devastated just to sell a paper, and make money. I'm not about the life of dramatizing a very real event."

"You're taking the honorable route I guess, but save the guideline of the Samurai for someone else because you know I'm not into that." Kukaku joked slightly. "But that old coot could go take a long walk off a short pier then, as long as you're honest to yourself."

"You know, you without a full drink in your system is really amazing. You're actually kinda nice and understanding."

"Yeah, that's because I'm out of here in another hour or so. I'm not working dinner so I won't be ready to knock someone's teeth out." Kukaku paused a moment, "I remember the news saying something about the scene of the murder to be somewhere at a dirt lot near an alley way."

"Yeah, three blocks from here. I went and the Gotei isn't letting any living thing near, especially the press and media. Because everyone knows we prey upon the misfortunes of others to make some bank."

"If anything, I'm surprised Bobo hasn't shut the place down for the time being." Yoruichi's counterpart nodded her head over to the barkeep. He was handsome enough, leanly built, short brown trims of hair atop his head and blue eyes to match. "Well, maybe if you hang around for a while, we'll go and creep in the area. You gotta have a job then, right?"

Kukaku and Yoruichi walked the waterlogged blocks of Karakura in their jackets. Even paced footfalls and breathing was the only thing that was passed between the long time friends. Upon turning the corner leading into the alley where flashing lights were still present. Yoruichi shook her head as her former colleagues has crowded around the area like vultures for the succulent story of misfortune. _It disgusts me._

Kukaku looked over at her friend who was shaking her head sadly. "Hey, this area is blocked, maybe we can go by the building over there?" She pointed over to the decrepit looking building which was abandoned by the looks of it. Not even bothering to look at her friend to see her reaction, she began to move over to the poorly boarded area.

From up above, on the top floor the women had a perfect vantage point of the entire scene. It was very large. The yellow border stretched a wide stretch of land that included the boarder of the highway, the bridge, and stretched past the metal high fence of the dirt lot. "God…" Yoruichi breathed. Car loads of Gotei Police littered the premises pacing back and forth, and one boy who stuck out like a sore thumb. His white hair was plastered to his face from the rain.

"A kid? What is he doing down there?" Kukaku a questioned as she knelt on one knee and placed a hand on the concrete of the floor, she removed a cigarette and placed it in her mouth. After lighting it, she took a warm drag.

"I think that's the head of Homicide, Captain Hitsugaya." Yoruichi answered, "He was a prodigy in that area of expertise, and so he is on record, the youngest member of an elite police force. It's just sad that a place where it was so beautiful has a more sinister side to it."

"I remember hearing this thing; 'Where once was light, now darkness falls...'," Kukaku restated with a sigh, "I think it fits the situation."

"These last nine years are like a plague."

Hitsugaya ran his hands across his hair which made it stand at awkward angles. _This killer is certainly crafty. _He looked down at the mud at his feet with a curious glance. _What could that be?_ Crouching, he removed another glove from his back pocket and moved the mud around the area. A fragment of a slightly bloodied orange jacket with a strand of violet hair attached to it was buried underneath.

"Oi, photographer, come here!" The captain called the man with the Kodak strapped around his neck. The officer hastily approached the young captain. Toshiro removed a yellow marker from a bag to his right and grabbed a plastic evidence baggie and placed it on his lap.

"Sir, what if a kid was playing here and hurt themselves? Couldn't it be circumstantial?" The photographer looked to the young man who didn't respond and seemed to be in thought.

"Well, we'd have to analyze it to find out if it is circumstantial, officer." Another voice intruded upon the conversation. "Captain Hitsugaya, I will take over from here and secure the barrier and keep these mongrels away from this story."

The white haired teen looked up to see another captain, The Captain of Foreign Affairs, Aizen Sousuke. He smiled warmly at the young Captain. His brown hair, like Toshiro's hung in his face and stuck to his glasses that covered his warm, chocolate brown eyes.

"If I may ask Captain Aizen, why are you here? I mean no offense, but this is a homicide."

"I realize." He stated curtly, "But the Chief wanted me to recall you and it's better to have a captain on the premises to keep the discipline, or am I mistaken?"

_The Chief, what could he possibly want?_ "Fine Aizen, hold down the fort." Regarding the much taller man, Hitsugaya stood up and brushed his pants off at the knee and gave the evidence bag to his colleague.

The taller man took control of the situation. "All right everyone, finish up we're going to get the evidence out of this area yesterday!" He walked over to the coroner's tent which housed the body and opened the curtain of the sheets. He looked upon the body with sympathy.

* * *

An: Well, there's chapter 1! Hope you enjoyed!


	3. Grave of Silence

Chapter 2: Grave of Silence

A fluorescent light shone over the young woman's body. She lay on a steel slab surrounded by other neutral colors: grey linoleum tiles covered the floor, the walls were painted white, and the other part of autopsy's morgue was filled with stainless steel draws where they rested the dearly departed.

Captain of Division Four, Retsu Unohana, and her Lieutenant, Isane Kotetsu spoke quietly among themselves, periodically addressing the corpse they were operating on. "My dear, I hope you allow us to shed light on this whoever this monster is." Unohana sighed as her blue irises examined the pale face.

"Captain," the voice of the coroner who represented them at the crime scene interrupted as he entered through the sliding doors, "the blood test came back; this girl is Devon Wayatt. Is there anything I can get for you?"

"No, Mr. Donnerly, I only would like your report of the other examinations you did on the spot in my office, as soon as you can," the Captain started, "and any other procedure at the crime scene. Thank you." She turned her pale, masked face back to her lieutenant. "Isane, may I have the forceps?"

The examiner left the room as the grey haired girl handed her the tool. "What do you see, Captain?" Isane's innocent grey eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"Take a look at her mouth. We saw no sign of blunt force trauma, but what about a visual examination of her face? What do you see?"

"She has bloodshot eyes, and contusions around her mouth…" she trailed off. "…Which indicates asphyxiation?"

"Good, now we do an internal examination. May I have the scalpel?" Isane handed her the next instrument. Retsu looked up and sighed at the sliding of the doors and the footsteps intruding and interrupting the autopsy. She looked over her shoulder. "Captain Hitsugaya, what can I do for you?" She remained polite.

"Have you found anything?" He asked almost impatiently, which he regretted once she laid her look of sheer intimidation upon him.

"Like your duty, ours takes process, Captain. We haven't reached any stellar conclusions yet, but the blood test came back just a few moments ago. Her name is Devon Wayatt. She had no alcohol in her system, or any drugs, and she was possibly suffocated to death. That is all the information I have as of yet."

"Captain Unohana, It's been three weeks and this is all you have? Hopefully the tests come in faster so we might catch the perpetrator before next year," he growled impatiently.

"Captain Hitsugaya," Unohana started firm and unyielding, "machines are not magic, nor are we sorceresses. We cannot get the tests back daily, because processes take time. We are still analyzing evidence from the first five murders. Your impatience does nothing to help this case, and if I may put this frankly, if we jump to conclusions, we may get a guy, but not the right one. So please, allow Isane and myself some room to continue our evaluation. I will call you to inform you of anything that changes."

Isane looked floored at the tone her captain took. _She never sounds like that! _She watched the younger Captain begin to leave the area with a deeper scowl crossing his features. _He doesn't look to pleased either…what?_ "Captain, there is petechiae on her chest as well…"

Unohana turned her attention back to the woman. "And what appears to be larger bruising on her sides. Now, if we may continue with our examination?"

Nodding, Isane closed the plastic visor on her head-gear to protect her eyes from the airborne pathogens that would be released.

Retsu made the Y-shaped incision on her chest down to her waist and began to open her up. "You made quite the struggle, didn't you? We had you for three weeks now, and are just figuring that you might have been smothered…"

* * *

"Captain Hitsugaya," Sousuke Aizen addressed the young man storming out of the captain's meeting. "Has there been any break through about that young woman?" Aizen almost flinched at the boy's icy glare obviously stating the lack of stellar information about the murder, or rather, any of the ones preceding this last murder.

"No, but Captain Unohana did find sign of asphyxia, but other than that, nothing." The young man grumbled in frustration. He continued to walk and hear the footsteps of the other man matching his own. _He wants a conversation…? _"If I may ask, Captain, why are you showing interest in my case? Surely it has nothing to do with foreign affairs?"

"Quite the contrary, Captain Hitsugaya, Captain Unohana also told me Ms Devon Wayatt is—or rather was, an English Student here on a visa." Reading the young man's face, he saw the curiosity, his eyes asking how. "Unlike you apparently, I don't waste my time on simplicity by making a face to face. I use a telephone."

"Captain Aizen," Hitsugaya ground out through clenched teeth, "I would appreciate it if you did not patronize me for my tradition, and the tradition of my field. You may use a telephone, but that is a function of your expertise, not mine."

"Then allow me the pleasure of understanding of your field, Captain, would you allow me to see the evidence collected from the others, that we may inspire each other's minds to see something you haven't before?"

Hitsugaya didn't answer. The two men passed the time walking with silence. The air was tense around the two, and was only broken by Sousuke bidding Toshiro farewell at the Fifth Division of the Gotei Headquarters. Hitsugaya continued in silence.

_Devon Wayatt, Julia Fhurer, Emilia Valdaez, Carla Johnson, Bethany Hall, Angelina Maldina, Lorena Callard, Victoria Englass, and Hallie Dunbery; the Poet's girls…I can't remember how many times I've read these girl's files, the reports about the evidence surrounding them and their contacts with anyone not of family background. I…I'm not going to fail based on the premise that this demented demagogue who spews defamation where they walk. Damn it! Each woman had a poem written which seemed to have nothing to do with anything…how, why is it that this bastard tip toes around me? Are they really that good? Or am I lacking, or are those other guys just plain idiots…?_

The squad members of Hitsugaya's beta team were clicking furiously on their computers and on the telephone attempting to find the trail that would lead them to this killer. He seemed to drag his feet to his office and sat in his chair dejectedly.

"Captain, you shouldn't bear the weight of the world on your shoulders." His lieutenant said softly. The young man drew another chair up to the white haired Captain's desk and sat with a concerned look crossing his features.

"How can I not when every year, I have one killer murdering women, while another killer is going around murdering every politician and anyone they get their hands on?! They came to this city near the same time, and have terrorized everyone for nine years now! Every time a woman dies, I think 'is Momo next? Will he kill my sister? And the other is: will that other one kill my dad? Lieutenant Harding, think carefully, do you have a sister, do you have a girlfriend? Do you ever think she might be next?" Hitsugaya breathed heavily as he ranted on.

"I know we'll catch 'em, I have faith that we will. No denyin' that sir. That's why I know that Hanna will be safe, that's why you should be thinkin' Momo's gonna be safe…Hanna's got me, Momo's got you…"

* * *

The Gotei compound was quiet; Aizen took note as he stood with the tenth division's lieutenant over the evidence which was accumulated in nine separate bins for every case. The men looked over the evidence found at the scene of Devon Wayatt's case, specifically the haiku and the dead flower. The forensic analyst came by their side and placed the cloth and hair sample in a plastic evidence bag in Lieutenant Harding's hand as he examined the bag. "What're the results, Mr. Donnerly?

Terry Donnerly's brown eye brows shot into where his hairline would have started, and handed the clipboard nestled into his arm to his supieriors. "You'll never guess…"

* * *

**A/N: **I'm back! This chapter took much too long to finish. Jargon escaped me so many weeks were spent researching the effects of asphyxia… ugh. Anyway, please—as always—feel free to drop a review if you want. I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter!


End file.
